


The Boy in the Golden Shoes

by solarstar_moonlight



Series: Multifandom Kpop Fairy Tales [1]
Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Cinderella Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, Physical Abuse, Smut, do be warned, eventually, nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23990254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarstar_moonlight/pseuds/solarstar_moonlight
Summary: Yangyang lives a life of servitude; tending to the whims of his stepmother and siblings without a second thought.  He's almost never allowed to leave the house, and he has very little understanding of the world outside his family's secluded home.  He has no prospects for the future, no hope that things will ever change... at least not until the night of new years eve reveals that the impossible was possible all along
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery
Series: Multifandom Kpop Fairy Tales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747807
Comments: 13
Kudos: 80





	1. Part I

“Yangyang! Wake your lazy ass up! The sun has been up for ages and you have chores to tend to!”

Yangyang’s eyes snapped open and he shot up in bed- or well, the thin mat that he referred to as his bed. Sunlight was already streaming through the high window in the corner of his room; it was way too late for him to be waking up. He knew if he didn’t get a move on, he’d regret it.

“I’m so sorry Houma!” he called back, frantically getting dressed, “I’ll be there in just a moment!”

Yangyang was so desperate to start his chores that he didn’t even bother washing up; there was no time after all. His stepmother had high expectations for him, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint her or get even further on her bad side.

Making his way through the house and cleaning each individual room was one hell of a task, but if he worked hard enough he’d finish before the sun began to set and he’d be able to get dinner started. His first order of business though, was to get breakfast on the table before his stepsisters woke up. It wouldn’t take him long to prepare some rice and steamed buns, and that would still leave him with plenty of time to do the cleaning.

Just as he was turning through the high arched doorway into the kitchen, he nearly bumped into his stepmother, earning a death glare from the woman. She was absolutely terrifying despite the fact that she was noticeably shorter than him. Her face was only slightly wrinkled despite her advancing age, but it seemed to be etched into a permanent scowl. Her usually stringy black hair was styled into an updo, and even though it was early she was dressed in a rather nice robe and carrying an umbrella to shield her from the sun.

“I’m sorry Houma,” Yangyang bowed, “you’re going out?”

“Obviously,” she hissed, “the girls and I are going into town to prepare for the New Year Festival, so don’t bother with breakfast. Get right to your chores,”

Yangyang wanted to smack himself; he’d all but forgotten that the new year was only a few days away, and with it being the Year of the Dragon, the festival was expected to be huge. Of course, Yangyang had only ever been to a New Year Festival once, when he was a child. Every year since then though, he’d been at home during the festivities, cleaning floors and doing laundry.

“Yes Houma, I’ll get right on it,” he sheepishly replied, disappearing through the doorway once again. As he was gathering his bucket and rags from the supply closet in the hallway, he head his stepsisters’ footsteps approaching. They looked very similar to his stepmother in many ways, though they were both a bit taller than her.

Qian was the elder of the two, and she had a cat-like grace and poise about her that was enviable. She always held her head high and it seemed like all of her moments were intricately calculated.

Jiequong was only a year older than Yangyang, and unlike Qian she cared very little for her personal image. Even with her hair done up to go out, a stray strand of it still hung in front of her face; something their older sister would never allow.

“Make sure everything is done before we return,” Qian said in her usual measured tone, “Mother will not be lenient,”

“Can you make pork belly for dinner? No one really makes it like you do,” Jiequong said softly after Qian continued down the hallway, “oh, and I’ll try to see if I can bring something back from you. Sucks that you never get to leave this place,”

Yangyang smiled and nodded; she’d never do it in front of her mother, but Jiequong was at least somewhat kind to him when no one else was around.

Soon the three women were gone, leaving Yangyang alone with his chores.

Cleaning was somehow therapeutic for him; especially when his stepmother wasn’t around to demand something new from him every five minutes. He could just empty his head and focus entirely on the task at hand. Before he knew it, three hours had passed and he’d already cleaned most of the upstairs… except of course for _that_ room.

His father’s study was perhaps the only room in the entire house that Yangyang dreaded cleaning. It reminded him too much of the past, the life that he’d never get back.

When Yangyang was only 10 years old, his father, the illustrious and respected General Liu Laoying, died suddenly. He was one of the emperor’s most trusted advisors and a celebrated man amongst the people, and thus the entire nation mourned his loss. The Emperor had a statue erected in his honor and made sure the family was taken care of with a substantial sum of money. But rather than staying in the city of Chang’an where Yangyang had been raised, his stepmother decided to pack up their lives and permanently move into the vacation home, in faraway Yunan.

The move completely isolated Yangyang from everything he’d ever known; something that was further exacerbated by his stepmother forbidding him from leaving the property. Most of his father’s things had been lost in the move, but the study was exactly how he remembered it from his childhood. Just being in the room made Yangyang feel his father’s presence, but that was a bittersweet feeling. 

He cleaned the room as quickly as he could, trying not to dwell there for too long. He wiped the dust from the desk, scrubbed the floors and cleaned the windows. Just as he was turning to leave though, he couldn’t stop his gaze from settling on the uniform that hung in the corner of the room. His father’s ceremonial robes were stunning in their beauty; they were a bright shade of red, trimmed with magnificent gold, and they had been gifted to him directly by the emperor.

“Father,” Yangyang said to himself, his lips quivering as they curved into a sad smile, “I miss you,”

He placed his hand on the robes, feeling the silky texture for a long moment before he finally tore himself away and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Once he was finally done cleaning the interior of the house, he decided to get some fresh air while he waited for the pork belly to cook; just a quick through the garden would suffice.

There was a light layer of snow on the ground, but it wasn’t cold enough to freeze the large pond that sat at the center of the garden. When he was a child, Yangyang would spend hours splashing and playing in that very pond; it was a great relief from the blistering heat of summer. It felt very different now that he was an adult, but one thing that remained the same was the lone koi fish that lived in the water. He wasn’t sure how long the fish had been there, but it was certainly older than he was.

“Hey there little koi,” Yangyang said with a bright smile, splashing his hand in the water just a bit to get the fish’s attention. The fish swam over to the pond’s edge and Yangyang quickly took a small bag from his pocket, “I brought you a little something,”

He emptied the back of uncooked rice into the pond and the koi fish eagerly gobbled it up. It was odd; sometimes he felt as if the fish was his only true friend. 

After keeping the friendly koi company for a while, Yangyang returned to the house and finished cooking. He finished getting dinner on the table just as his stepmother and stepsisters returned, carrying boxes with them as they entered the house.

“Sorry, couldn’t get you anything. Mother was watching like a hawk,” Jiequong whispered as she passed Yangyang. Their stepmother inspected every single room in the house before she came into the kitchen to eat.

“The sheets on Qian’s bed were wrinkled. I expect perfection Yangyang,” she growled, sitting down and taking a bite of her food, “and this meat is undercooked,”

“I think it’s fine,” Jiequong retorted, a mouth full of food as she spoke. Qian remained silent, simply blotting the corner of her mouth with her kerchief.

“My apologies Houma, I’ll do better in the future,” Yangyang hung his head in a bow, trying to ignore the pangs of hunger in his stomach; he’d been so busy that he hadn’t eaten all day. Hardly a rare occurrence. Unfortunately, his apology wasn’t sufficient. His stepmother held out her hand, and he already knew what to do. 

Slowly, Yangyang shuffled over to her side of the table, holding out his arm and rolling up his sleeves. With a quick swat of her hand, she slapped his forearm with her pair of custom metal chopsticks, causing an intense burning pain as they broke the skin. Yangyang winced, but was careful to not show too much emotion as he rolled his sleeve back down and bowed again.

It would be just one of many marks that littered his arms and legs.

Soon enough, dinner was over and Yangyang was free to eat whatever was left over; a piece of pork belly and a small helping of rice. Once he’d eaten and hung the laundry out to dry overnight, he returned to his bedroom collapsed on his mat.

He tried in vain to fight the emotions welling up in his chest. He felt so trapped; every day was the same for him. Riddled with abuse and overwork. When he was a child, he’d always imagined he’d be a prince one day, since of course he didn’t understand the true workings of the world.

As a young boy, he was madly in love with Prince Wong Kunhang, the emperor’s son and his closest friend. When he’d accompany his father to the imperial palace, he and Kunhang would play in the courtyard for hours on end. One memory that stood out more than any other was that of his first kiss…

_TEN YEARS AGO_

_“This way Yangyang, I have something I wanna show you!” Kunhang’s squeaky voice called out as he ran through the tall grass with Yangyang struggling to keep up._

_“Hold on Kunhang, you’re too fast!”_

_“You gotta keep up!”_

_The two boys ran for quite a while, until the palace was in the distance. Kunhang finally stopped when they approached a tall, overgrown willow tree._

_“This is what you wanted to show me? It’s just a silly tree!” Yangyang pouted._

_“It’s not just a tree!” Kunhang folded his arms and furrowed his thick eyebrows, “it’s my secret spot! It’s a place I can come to do whatever I want!”_

_“So, why’d you bring me here?” Yangyang wondered._

_“So I can do this!” Kunhang smirked before planting a quick kiss on Yangyang’s lips. The younger boy was so stunned that his entire face flushed red. He’d never kissed anyone before, but he certainly wasn’t opposed to Kunhang being the first one._

The sound of the wind whipping against the side of the house brought Yangyang’s thoughts back to the present. He wondered what ever became of Kunhang; was he still in China, or had he traveled abroad like royals often would? If he were to see Yangyang, would he even remember him? If he dwelled on any of those questions, he would be up all night, so he did his best to push them from his mind and get some rest.

He was so exhausted that sleep came relatively easy; a blessing to be sure, especially considering that before he knew it, the sun would rise, and the daily cycle would start all over again.


	2. Part II

Yangyang’s arms were starting to ache from sweeping the floors, but he was nearly finished. He’d been up since before sunrise, trying to clean the entire house before his stepmother woke up. Maybe if he did a good enough job, she’d let him join her and his stepsisters on their trip into town. It had been ages since he’d left the house, and he was starting to go a bit stir crazy.

Just as he was finishing up, he heard a light knock at the front door. Usually he wasn’t permitted to open the door for anyone, but with everyone else sleeping, he didn’t have much of an option. He quickly propped his broom against the wall and answered the door, revealing an impossibly handsome young man in regal attire. His robes were gorgeous; a beautiful shade of navy blue with patterns of silver. His black hair was pulled up into a topknot and adorned with a sparkling silver piece.

“Hello,” the man said with a bow, “I’m Xiao Dejun, an emissary of the Imperial House of Chang’an,”

“H-hello,” Yangyang sheepishly replied. What on earth was an emissary of the emperor doing all the way in Yunan?

“I’m here to deliver a message for Madame Huang Zhi. The New Year Festival will be held at the palace this year, and Prince Kunhang has specifically requested the presence of Liu Yangyang,”

_Prince Kunhang_

“The Prince wants…”

“Thank you for the message,” Yangyang’s stepmother’s voice cut in, startling him and earning a gasp, “please alert the emperor that our family will be in attendance,”

With that, she quickly closed the door in Dejun’s face and turned to face Yangyang; a look of seething anger on her face.

“What did I tell you about answering the door?!”

“I’m sorry Houma, but you were asleep and…” Yangyang was cut off again by a stinging slap from his stepmother that caused him to stumble backwards.

“Allow me to reiterate you miserable little shit,” she growled, “under no circumstances are you permitted to answer the door for anyone, EVER. Understood?!”

“Y-yes Houma,”

“Now, my daughters and I are heading into town to finish preparing for the festival. You will continue your chores,”

“Yes Houma,”

As his stepmother left the room, Yangyang had to muster every bit of energy he had to fight the tears welling up in his eyes. When he was a child, he took his stepmother’s abuse in stride; gritting his teeth and bearing it. But the older he got, the harder it became to keep his composure.

…

Two days had passed since the messenger from Chang’an had come to the house, and Yangyang couldn’t stop replaying his message in his mind.

Prince Kunhang not only remembered him from their shared childhoods, but he had specifically requested his presence at the ball.

He’d spent the entire morning in high spirits; whistling and humming as he did his chores. For that afternoon, the family would set off for Chang’an and he’d finally be reunited with the prince. It was only when his stepsisters started doing their hair and makeup that Yangyang had a realization; he had absolutely nothing to wear to the festival! He’d always alternated between the same three simple outfits, and the last time he’d dressed formally was when he was a little kid. He couldn’t possibly attend such an important festival in dirty, ripped clothing… though there was one thing in the house he could wear.

While the women were occupied with their preparations, Yangyang slipped into his father’s study. He smiled warmly at his father’s ceremonial robes; feeling a new emotion toward them. Instead of bitter sweetness, this time he felt a sense of comfort as he removed the robes from their display and put them on.

A single tear rolled down his cheek when he looked at himself in the mirror. The robes were a bit too large for him; General Liu was considerably taller and broader than he was, but still, he looked quite similar to how he imagined his father to look in his youth.

Once he was dressed, Yangyang exited the study and walked into the main hall where his stepmother and stepsisters were waiting for their transportation to arrive. His stepmother’s face twisted with disgust at the sight of him; he’d made her angry more times than he could count, but he’d never quite seen her so furious before.

“What in the name of Guanyin do you think you’re doing?!” she screeched.

“I, um,” Yangyang’s voice was small and trembling, “I was just preparing to accompany you to the festival, since the prince requested that I…”

Without warning, his stepmother pushed him to the ground and pounced on him, ripping and tearing the robes to shreds. Jiequong stared on in abject horror, while Qian averted her eyes; staring at the wall in front of her.

“You will not leave this house, and you most certainly will not accompany us anywhere! You were always the thing standing in my way! Your father was intent to leave everything to you until I…” his stepmother’s eyes widened as she quickly stopped talking and pulled herself away from Yangyang, standing up and straightening her clothes.

“Until you what mother?” Jiequong tentatively asked, earning a death glare from her mother, “You didn’t have anything to do with stepfather’s death… did you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her mother shook her head, followed by uneasy laughter, “I simply assured a good future and a comfortable life for the three of us,”

As if cutting through the tension, the sound of horses outside filled the air. 

“We have to go, or else we’ll be late,” Qian said softly, rushing out the door. Her mother followed swiftly behind, but Jiequong hung back for a moment.

“I… I’m so sorry Yangyang,” was all she could manage to say before leaving the house, leaving Yangyang lying in the floor amidst a flurry of shredded fabric.

After spending close to an hour lying on the floor in desolate despair, Yangyang found the strength to stand up and make his way outside. He had no particular destination in mind, he just needed to be as far away from the house as possible. As if subconsciously, he made his way to the garden pond. It was only then, when he saw himself in the water’s reflection, that he truly broke down.

His father’s robes were completely ruined, his face was littered with scratches from his stepmother’s wild clawing, and his hair was completely disheveled. He broke into tears, kneeling at the pond’s edge and sobbing wildly. When it seemed he was at his lowest point, a strange, yet powerful voice echoed in his head.

_“Cry not Liu Yangyang,”_

He gasped and looked around for the source of the voice, but the only thing he saw was the friendly koi fish, swimming up to him.

“No way… impossible,”

_“Impossible you say? There are many things in this world that you do not understand, but does that make them impossible?”_

It had become shockingly clear to Yangyang that the voice was in fact coming from the koi, but… how? Why? Was he just going insane?

As he was starting to question his own sanity, something even more remarkable happened. Under the light of the rising moon, the koi fish leapt out of the pond. As it reached the crest of its jump, there was a bright flash of light that nearly blinded Yangyang. Once his vision returned, his jaw practically touched the floor. The little koi fish before him had transformed into a truly massive, serpentine dragon with sparkling golden scales and flowing, glittering whiskers.

_“Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Shenlong, guardian spirit of the Liu Family since the era of the warring states. I have been watching you with great sadness since your childhood, waiting for the day when my power could change your life for the better. Now it appears the opportunity has arisen,”_

“This is unreal,” Yangyang’s eyes were wide and his jaw still slack.

_“Attend the festival, reconnect with Prince Kunhang and achieve the life you deserve,”_

“How am I meant to attend the festival? I’ve got nothing to wear, no transportation… I have nothing, nothing at all,” tears streamed down Yangyang’s face again.

_“Wrong once again young master. You have everything you’ve ever needed,”_

With that, Shenlong released a mighty breath, blowing Yangyang back a bit. His clothes slowly began to repair themselves, but they also tailored themselves to fit him flawlessly. The color shifted from a bold red to a deep indigo. His sandals morphed into a pair of glimmering golden shoes, and his hair was perfectly styled and pinned up by a golden topknot piece.

“You fixed my robes! This is a miracle!”

_“That is only the beginning young master,”_

As those words bounced around Yangyang’s mind, four tiny field mice scurried across his feet, likely trying to escape the winter cold.

With another mighty breath, Shenlong transformed the mice into four human men in robes similar to the one Yangyang now wore, albeit less ornate. A few bamboo stalks were pulled from the garden and, in midair, fashioned themselves together to form a litter; a human pulled carriage-like vehicle that only the rich and/or noble would ever travel in.

_“And now you have transportation. With their magic, they can carry you to Chang’an in no time at all. Now there is but one more thing you need,”_

“You’ve already done so much for me, what else could there possibly be?” Yangyang wondered aloud.

_“You will need to disguise your face, lest your stepmother recognize you,”_ Shenlong narrowed his eyes on Yangyang before flying towards the boy at full speed. Yangyang expected to be tackled to the ground by the dragon, but instead he felt a slight tickle on his face as Shenlong turned himself into a golden dragon festival mask.

_“Now, we must depart, for we must return before midnight,”_

“Why’s that?”

_“My magic is not all-powerful I’m afraid. It will only last until the new year begins,”_

Yangyang simply nodded; he was resolute. He had suffered abuse for far too long. He would go to the festival and take the destiny that had always belonged to him, no matter what his stepmother had to say about it.


	3. Part III

The sound of festival drums echoed through the air as Prince Kunhang watched the proceedings from the height secluded balcony. The palace courtyard had been completely decked out in red and gold decorations; everything from solid gold dragon statues (to welcome the year of the dragon) to crimson paper lanterns adorned the area. Lively music was ringing out and the festival-goers seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly, but Kunhang couldn’t bring himself to be happy; not after the news he’d received earlier in the evening.

Ever since he was a child, Kunhang had been smitten with Liu Yangyang, and even though the other boy moved away, that attraction never faded. Kunhang would spend countless hours fantasizing about what kind of person Yangyang grew to become; was he athletic or scholarly? An animal lover? Did he play any instruments? Kunhang himself played a dizi flute in his leisure time, so it would be perfect if Yangyang had mastered the strings of the guqin, since the sounds complimented each other so well.

Unfortunately, he’d never get the opportunity to find out.

Kunhang had specifically requested Yangyang’s presence at the festival, figuring that it would be the perfect time for them to reconnect, but when the other man’s stepmother and stepsisters arrived, Kunhang was quickly informed of the terrible truth; Yangyang had apparently died young from illness.

The revelation knocked the wind from Kunhang’s lungs, and he quickly excused himself to the balcony so that the guests wouldn’t see his tears.

“Prince?”

The sudden voice shook Kunhang from his thoughts, and he quickly wiped his tears on the sleeve of his bejeweled robe before turning around to face whomever was speaking to him.

“Ah, Dejun,” Kunhang quickly tried to regain his composure, “did you need something?”

“I just wanted to remind you that this is more than just a celebration of the New Year. You have to focus on finding a bride while we have all of the noble families in one place,”

Kunhang grimaced; sure, he was interested in women, but his passion for men had always burned brighter. Besides, how could he focus on finding love when the only person he’d ever had feelings for was gone?

“Yes, I know,” Kunhang bitterly replied, though he tried to curb the edge in his voice just a bit.

“There’s something else. We had a late arrival just a few moments ago,”

“That’s odd, I thought all of the invited families had already arrived. Hadn’t we checked all of the seals to make sure?”

“We did, but this person was carrying the Liu Family seal,”

Kunhang’s heart nearly stopped beating in his chest. He felt his entire body tense at the mere utterance of those words.

“The… Liu Family? That’s impossible, Madame Huang Zhi and her daughters checked in over an hour ago, and they were carrying the Liu Seal on behalf of her late husband,”

“That is true indeed Prince, but we validated the seal’s authenticity. It’s entirely legitimate,” Dejun clarified. A smile eased itself across Kunhang’s face as his eyes lit up with excitement. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he knew very well that there was only one person in the world that could possibly be carrying such a seal…

Within a minute, Kunhang had rejoined the party, desperately moving through the crowd to find the mysterious late arrival. He was met mostly with familiar faces; either women trying to get his attention for a dance or a drink, or one of his father’s many advisors trying to point him in the direction of one of the aforementioned maidens. He shrugged all of them off; he wouldn’t be satisfied until his suspicions were confirmed.

Eventually he found this person; standing alone at the edge of the courtyard, simply admiring one of the decorative potted plants. Whoever they were, they were absolutely stunning; whatever material their indigo robes were made of seemed to glow faintly in the moonlight, and their glittering golden shoes were incredibly attention-grabbing. The thing that piqued Kunhang’s interest the most though, was the elaborate dragon themed festival mask that the young man wore.

“Excuse me, may I have a moment of your time?” Kunhang asked tentatively; he didn’t want to make a fool of himself by falsely assuming this person’s identity, but he simply had to talk to them. The boy turned around, and for a brief second there was a flash of something like familiarity in his eyes.

“You’re the prince, you can have whatever you like, right?” the boy responded, followed by a slight giggle. Kunhang grinned.

“I suppose that’s right. I didn’t want to bother you, but I couldn’t help but notice that I’ve never seen you before, despite the fact that you carry a very well-known family seal,”

The boy’s eyes darted around, almost as if he was trying to see if there was anyone in earshot. Of course, Kunhang drew attention wherever he went, and though most of the other attendees were trying to seem as though they weren’t paying attention, their hushed tones and carefully averted glances made it clear that they were eavesdropping.

“Well my family is a large one, you can’t possibly know everyone, right?” the boy replied softly before closing the distance between himself and Kunhang, “perhaps we should discuss this someplace a bit more private?”

“I can show you to the balcony. There’s an excellent view of the festival from up there,”

“I actually have a better idea. Come with me,”

With that, the boy took Kunhang by the hand and led him away from the courtyard, leaving a litany of shocked gasps and wide eyes in their wake.

They walked through the field of tall grass, leaving the palace far behind them. Eventually the pounding of the drums faded into a dull heartbeat, and the only thing lighting the night was the moon and the flicker of distant fireworks.

“Are we going someplace in particular?” Kunhang finally asked as they approached the old willow tree. He used to frequent the spot quite a bit, but he didn’t have much spare time for things like that anymore.

“I’m taking you to… a secret spot,” the boy said. Those words. It had to be…

They came to a stop right under the tree and Kunhang couldn’t hold it in any longer. At the risk of making a fool of himself and letting his optimism get the better of him, he spoke,

“It’s you isn’t it?”

The boy smirked and slowly removed the golden mask covering the top half of his face. As the moonlight illuminated his porcelain skin, Kunhang nearly broke into tears. Sure it had been a decade, but some faces never change.

Especially not one as perfect as Liu Yangyang’s.

His face was still youthful and soft, but adulthood had sharpened his features and chiseled his jawline. Beautiful wasn’t the word for him; he was radiant, absolutely stunning. So much so, that Kunhang couldn’t even think straight while he was looking at him. Without thought, Kunhang pulled Yangyang into a kiss; much more passionate and fiery than the innocent peck they shared as children. Yangyang didn’t fight it, instead he held Kunhang tight as they kissed feverishly, only stopping when they had to breathe.

“There’s so much I want to say to you Yangyang,” Kunhang began, but Yangyang pressed a finger to his lips.

“Later. For now, let’s not waste this time. Take me Kunhang,” Yangyang tried to mask the desperation in his voice. He knew he didn’t have long, and he wanted to make the most of this time; to savor this dream before it was cursed to end.

“Take you… you mean…”

“Yes, please. I’ve wanted this for so long. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted this way,”

Kunhang didn’t need to be told twice. He instantly shrugged his robe off his shoulders; the icy bite of the winter air was nothing against his heated skin. Yangyang’s jaw dropped slightly at the sight of Kunhang shirtless, but he didn’t have much time to admire his physique before the other man was on him again.

Kunhang hadn’t realized how badly he wanted this; he attached his lips and teeth to Yangyang’s neck, sucking and biting all at once, leaving angry red marks and passionate purple bruises. His hands explored Yangyang’s petite frame, slowly removing the silky robes, revealing the soft, warm skin underneath. Yangyang bit his lip to keep himself from moaning, figuring that the sound would be somewhat embarrassing. Instead, he focused on running his hands down Kunhang’s sculpted body, taking in every dip and rise of his abs like he was committing them to memory. It wasn’t long before he got over his hesitation, sliding his nervous, shaking hand into Kunhang’s loose fitting pants.

“Oh fuck, that’s cold,” Kunhang chuckled a bit, breathing against Yangyang’s neck in a way that made the smaller boy gasp.

“S-sorry,”

“It’s okay baobei,” Kunhang sweetly replied, peppering light kisses along Yangyang’s jawline. Yangyang stroked Kunhang softly, marveling at how what seemed modest at first, grew to an impressive size once it was flushed and standing at full attention. Realizing that Kunhang couldn’t have been comfortable, Yangyang slid his pants down, finally allowing the throbbing, red-tipped beast between his legs to stand tall. Despite himself, he licked his lips at the sight of it; it was beautiful, and taking it inside of him would be a worthy challenge.

“I need you so badly Kunhang, I’ve needed you for so long I can’t wait any longer,” Yangyang whined, clawing at Kunhang’s back just to ease some of the tension building up in his own body. It felt like he’d been wound tight enough to snap and he just desperately needed something to quench the desire that was flaming out of control within him.

“I’ll take care of you Yangyang, don’t worry pretty thing,” Kunhang smoothly replied, slowly laying Yangyang’s trembling body on the soft grass before pulling his pants off, allowing his leaking cock to rest against his stomach, “is this your first time?”

“Y-yes,”

“Then we’re going to have to ease into this a bit, okay?” Kunhang led two fingers to Yangyang’s mouth and issued a simple command, “suck,”

Yangyang did as he was told; eagerly sucking Kunhang’s slender fingers like his life depended on it. He got lost in the action, finding a bit of satisfaction just from having _something_ in his mouth. Eventually though, Kunhang removed his fingers, prodding them against Yangyang’s tightened hole instead.

“Try to relax baobei, it’ll be a little uncomfortable at first,” Kunhang warned. Yangyang nodded, but he couldn’t help but gasp when Kunhang’s first finger entered him. It was such a strange feeling; he’d touched himself to thoughts of Kunhang before, and he’d absolutely experimented with his own fingers, but to have someone else do it was an entirely new experience. It felt so foreign, yet so complimentary; as if Kunhang was literally made to be inside of him. The discomfort only lasted a little while before Yangyang adjusted to the feeling, and it didn’t take long at all for Kunhang to find a special place inside of him that completely changed everything.

“Oh, fuck! There Kunhang, right there,”

“That’s what I was looking for,” Kunhang smirked a bit before adding in a second finger. Yangyang’s toes curled and he gripped the grass at his sides for support as Kunhang began to assault his asshole. He couldn’t stop the tears that formed in his eyes from the pleasure of it all, but it somehow got even better when a wet heat was added to the mix. Surely enough, Kunhang was licking at Yangyang entrance like a curious kitten, and Yangyang couldn’t get enough of it.

“More, fuck yes more Kunhang,” Yangyang couldn’t care less about the sounds he made anymore.

“I fucking love the way you taste pretty thing,” Kunhang said before sticking his tongue in completely, knocking the breath out of Yangyang at the same time.

“Fuck yes! Please Kunhang, fuck me! I can’t wait any longer!”

“Okay baobei, I won’t make you wait for it,”

With that, Kunhang spit in the palm of his hand and spread it evenly over his rock hard cock; it wasn’t exactly an adequate lubricant, but it would have to do. Slowly, he slid himself into Yangyang, causing the smaller boy to grab onto his broad shoulders for support; his dick was a lot longer and thicker than his fingers were after all. Yangyang released a guttural moan the moment Kunhang bottomed out, relishing the feeling of his hips against his backside. 

“You can move Kunhang, I’m ready for it,” Yangyang said, already sounding breathless. Kunhang didn’t need a single reassurance; he instantly pulled out to the tip before surging forward, earning a broken cry from the boy beneath him. He continued with slow, deep strokes; hitting the places deep inside Yangyang with pinpoint accuracy. Yangyang’s cries of ecstasy completely drowned out the distant festival, and the red tint to his skin was only amplified by the ambient light of the fireworks exploding overhead.

It was everything both of them had ever fantasized about; Yangyang was spewing a stream of filthy curses, completely abandoning the meek persona he’d developed over the years in favor of giving in to the decade of lust he’d built up for a man he’d never thought he’d have. Kunhang was taking the opportunity to savor the feeling of Yangyang’s tight heat. It was a vice around his cock; a snake squeezing the life out of its prey. 

“Fuck Kunhang, I can’t take much more of this, it’s t-too fucking good!” Yangyang gasped.

“Then let it go. Come for me baobei,”

Yangyang couldn’t hold it in a second longer; he released between their clashing bodies, painting his stomach and Kunhang’s abs with ropes of white. His entire body shuddered as Kunhang continued slamming into him; chasing his own release. His ears were ringing, but he did manage to hear Kunhang announcing the arrival of his orgasm before feeling it flood his hole with warmth and wetness.

They lie there in silence for a while, with only the sounds of their harsh breathing filling the air. Yangyang felt like he’d ascended to the royal court of heaven; he never imagined feeling so safe, so loved and so intimate with anyone in his life. He wished he could just live inside that moment forever with Kunhang, and never have to return to the life he knew.

“Kunhang, that was… I don’t even have words,”

“Why did your stepmother lie?”

“What do you mean?” Yangyang asked, bewildered. He was so overwhelmed by the sight of Kunhang, and more so the _feeling_ of him, that he’d honestly all but forgotten about his stepmother.

“When she arrived with your stepsisters, she told me you’d died young from the plague,”

Yangyang sighed; he knew he’d have to return to reality sooner than later, but he’d hoped he could avoid talking about her for at least a while longer.

“Well… honestly…” before Yangyang could continue, the sound of a gong rung out; loud enough for them to hear despite their distance from the palace, “wait a minute, was that…”

“The midnight gong. The New Year is about to arrive,”

The color drained from Yangyang’s face and he quickly jumped up from the ground, scurrying around to retrieve his clothing.

“What’s wrong, where are you going?” Kunhang frantically asked, not bothering to cover himself as he stood up.

“I have to leave now,” Yangyang urgently replied as he tied up his robes, “I’m so sorry Kunhang, I wish I could’ve made this last,”

“What are you talking about Yangyang, you can’t be leaving me. Not again. Not after I just found you,” Kunhang pleaded.

“I’m sorry, I really am. But I knew this was too good to last. I know you’re used to having it all, but our lives are too separate now. You have your reality, and I have mine,” Yangyang said solemnly, turning to leave. Kunhang grabbed his arm, desperate to keep the boy with him for a moment longer, but Yangyang jerked away. It was difficult to see with only the moonlight, but Kunhang could’ve sworn that when Yangyang’s sleeve rose a bit, he saw a group of nasty scars along his wrists; just what kind of ‘reality’ was Yangyang truly living in?

Unfortunately, Kunhang didn’t have time to question that, since Yangyang took off into the night, leaving him naked, alone and confused beneath the old willow tree…


	4. Part IV

Yangyang’s daily chores felt like a ball and chain around his ankle as he made his way around the house. It was one thing to be a prisoner in his own home, but it was another thing entirely to return to such a life after having a taste of freedom.

He’d returned to the house late the night before; having to walk the rest of the way after the dragon’s magic faded. His robes turned back into rags, his liter and its footmen disappeared, and all that was left was the festival mask, which turned back into a koi fish the moment it was placed back into the garden pond. If it weren’t for his sore ass and hickeys from Kunhang, he would’ve sworn that it was all a stress induced dream.

His stepmother didn’t question the marks on his neck; she probably thought she’d caused them in her assault on him. In fact, she had spoken a single word to him all day, despite them passing each other in the house several times. Qian was characteristically silent as well, but of course Jiequong couldn’t resist the urge to prod Yangyang about the marks.

“Those don’t look like scratches… they kind of look like bite marks,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, “and I’ve noticed you’ve been limping around today. Is there something or, someone you want to tell me about?”

Yangyang couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“No, there’s nothing to speak of,” he unconvincingly lied, “how was the festival?”

“It was beautiful, but mother isn’t happy. She thinks we wasted our time since the prince disappeared for most of the night and paid no attention to me and Qian,”

“I didn’t know she wanted you two to get his attention,”

“There was a rumor going around that the prince was looking to find a bride, but it seemed to be a pretty low priority for him,” Jiequong said, “he was really handsome though, nice broad shoulders,”

Yangyang shuddered at the thought. He could still feel the ghost of Kunhang’s muscled shoulders beneath his fingertips.

“That look on your face,” Jiequong spoke up again, studying Yangyang intently, “you’re definitely hiding something,”

“What are you…”

“I heard someone mention something about a late arrival at the festival, someone apparently using the Liu Family seal to prove they’d been invited,”

Yangyang gulped.

“Jiequong, I…”

“I don’t remember much about stepfather, but I know as a general and advisor, he was really close to the emperor. Which means you probably knew the prince when you were young,”

“I, uh,”

“And the prince disappearing last night coupled with those marks on your neck… you slept with him didn’t you? Oh, you little devil!” Jiequong giggled in her hushed tone, “well tell me, how was it?”

Yangyang just blinked at her for a few moments, marveling at how she’d managed to piece it all together so quickly (even if she didn’t know anything about the magical dragon spirit). Eventually he gave in, realizing that lying any further would be futile.

“It was… wow, it was so good. Every moment with him was absolutely perfect. I just wish it never had to end,”

Jiequong’s eyes filled with sadness at Yangyang’s words.

“I’m so sorry Yangyang. I feel awful for how you’ve been treated, and I’m sorry that I could never protect you,”

Yangyang found himself choked up at that; he couldn’t find the words to respond, but no words were really needed. He simply pulled his sister into a hug for a long while.

“There’s a royal envoy coming!” Qian’s voice cut through the silence like a sword through flesh as she marched into the room. It was shrill and almost panicked; something Yangyang had never really heard from her before, “there are at least a dozen horses and a they’re flying the imperial flag!”

Yangyang was completely frozen; Kunhang must’ve been coming for him. It made sense after all; him sending Dejun to personally ask for him meant he’d found out where he lived, and after their night together it was only a matter of time before the prince personally came to find him. Still, the entire situation filled him with nothing but absolute dread.

What would Kunhang say? What would his stepmother do? Would she manage to manipulate Kunhang? If she did, what on earth would she do to Yangyang when there was no imperial threat there to protect him? If she found out that he’d not only attended the festival against her wishes, but that he’d made love to the prince that she wanted her daughters to marry, she’d probably kill him. At least then she wouldn’t have to lie about him being dead.

It wasn’t long before the rapid beating of Yangyang’s heart was eclipsed by the pounding of hooves as the horses approached the property. Not knowing what else to do, Yangyang sprinted out of the room and into the kitchen, closing himself in the pantry; he could only hope that no one would think to look in there. From the darkness of the cramped space, he could hear pounding at the main door.

“This must be it!” his stepmother’s voice was muffled, but still recognizable, “the prince must’ve seen one of you from afar last night!”

The creak of the main door opening sent a nervous chill down Yangyang’s spine.

“Madame Huang Zhi? I am Huang Renjun, here to announce the arrival of Prince Wong Kunhang,” an unfamiliar voice said. The sound of footsteps followed.

“Glorious Prince, what brings you here to our humble home?”

“Madame Huang Zhi, you stand accused of treason,”

Yangyang’s heart dropped. He recognized Kunhang’s commanding voice in an instant. He’d never heard anyone speak to his stepmother in such a tone, and his brain was working overtime imagining the different ways that the situation could progress.

“T-treason? I would never…”

“You lied to my face,” Kunhang’s voice was restrained but the sharpness of his tone could cut through even the thickest armor, “lying to a member of the imperial court is treason,”

“What lie do you speak of?”

“You told me that Liu Yangyang was dead. You lied. Now tell me where he is, and if I so much as think you’re lying again, you’ll be put to death,”

Yangyang closed his eyes and covered his ears; he couldn’t bear to hear any more. The confrontation was sending his anxiety into overdrive. He wished that he could just completely block it out, but he couldn’t ignore the sudden appearance of light behind his eyelids; someone had found his hiding spot.

“Yangyang, it’s okay,” a soft voice said. He opened his eyes, revealing Qian standing over him, “please, come into the main hall,”

He walked with Qian, wondering why she was being so soft with him; while she’d never directly abused him herself, she always stayed quiet and deferred to her mother’s will, unlike Jiequong.

The tension in the main hall hung heavy in the air. Kunhang was standing by the door, his face etched into a scowl which only softened a bit when he saw Yangyang unharmed. He was flanked by at least ten other men, all dressed in fancy, regal attire. His stepmother was looking at the ground; unable to even face his direction.

“There you are baobei,” Kunhang pecked Yangyang on the cheek, “are you alright? She hasn’t laid a hand on you, has she?”

“No, not today,” Yangyang sheepishly replied.

“But she has in the past?”

Yangyang briefly met his stepmother’s gaze, and he almost fled back into the pantry. She was glaring at him with burning intensity; threatening him without saying a single word. Yangyang didn’t even have a chance to speak up though, before Jiequong cut in.

“She hits him when he displeases her. If he doesn’t do the chores well enough for her liking,”

“You lying little…!”

“It is true,” Qian cut their mother off, earning a shocked gasp from the older woman, “I’m sorry mother, but I cannot turn a blind eye anymore. The way you treat him is _wrong_. It’s awful and it’s shameful and it’s casting a dark cloud over our family. I just can’t ignore it anymore for the sake of pleasing you,”

His stepmother’s jaw practically hit the floor. Kunhang’s face turned crimson with anger, and his hand briefly rested on the sword at his hip, but he stopped and took a deep breath.

“Not only did you lie to me, but you’ve been abusing Yangyang? As the son of General Liu, he should’ve inherited everything, but instead you’ve been using him as a mere servant. Renjun, Dejun, shackle her,”

“Shackles?!”

“Yes. You’ll be coming with us back to Chang’an where you’ll pay for your crimes. Since you used Yangyang as a servant, you’ll clean the entire imperial palace, top to bottom every single day. The blisters on your fingers and sores on your feet will serve as reminders of the hell you put him through,” Kunhang spat as Dejun and Renjun took her away.

“This is absurd, you’re mistaken I swear! Prince please, don’t do this! PRINCE!” his stepmother hysterically screamed as she was pulled through the door. Just like that, the weight on Yangyang’s shoulders was gone; it felt almost unreal. Could it really, truly be over?

“W-what do I do now?” he wondered aloud. As much as he hated his stepmother, she’d controlled his entire life until that point. How could he really survive without her?

“You’re gonna come with me baobei, that is, if you want to?” Kunhang asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice, “I know you said our realities are different, but you deserve so much better than this Yangyang. I love you, and I want a chance to make a life with you,”

“Prince,” Dejun said softly, “forgive me, I don’t meant to be a downer, but you still must take a bride. I know that you’re in love with Master Liu, but he can’t give you an heir. It’s your imperial responsibility to have a child someday,”

Kunhang looked defeated for a moment, before his gaze shifted to Jiequong. He smiled at her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re Jiequong right?”

“Um, y-yes,”

“You’re beautiful, and there’s something sweet about you. I love how you spoke up for Yangyang without a moment’s hesitation,”

“I’ve always had a special bond with him,”

“Then please, do one last thing, not for me, but for him.”  
  


“What’s that?”

“Please be my wife Jiequong. Bear me and heir and live a life of comfort in the palace. I’ll take Yangyang as my consort, and we can spend our lives together,”

“I’d do anything to make up for the years I’ve watched him suffer,” Jiequong looked into Yangyang’s eyes, fighting the urge to tear up.

“Jiequong… are you sure? This is an awfully big commitment,” Yangyang asked.

“Absolutely. Don’t talk about it like it’s really a sacrifice, I’m gonna be princess!” Jiequong replied with her trademarked grin. Yangyang couldn’t fight it anymore; he burst into tears as Jiequong pulled him into a hug. Qian joined them shortly afterwards.

“I’m sorry I always stayed silent during everything Yangyang. I was always afraid of mother’s wrath. It was always like a warzone around here, and I think I was just trying to survive it in my own way,”

“You don’t need to apologize Qian,” Yangyang assured her.

“So Yangyang, will you come with me to the palace?” Kunhang asked once again, the nerves evident in his voice. Yangyang smiled at him, took his hands and kissed him softly.

“Of course I’ll come with you,”

The two kissed again, earning warm smiles from everyone in the room. As the setting sun cast light through the window, Yangyang came to a realization; he was finally free of the cycle that bound him for years. He could choose his own destiny, and that was the greatest feeling in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


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